


A Beary Good Time

by StarfruitHoney



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Camping, Frotting, Handsome Jack/Rhys in background, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 12:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13704387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarfruitHoney/pseuds/StarfruitHoney
Summary: Tim wants to go camping, but he foolishly takes his brother and his brother's boyfreind along with him.





	A Beary Good Time

Tim inhaled, letting the crisp forest air fill his lungs. It had been ages since he had come out to the national park for a camping trip. He’d really missed it, the sights, the solitude, the blissful quiet-

“HEY! Tim! How the hell are we supposed to get this shit to the campsite if we can't friggin drive there!” His brother’s voice cut the air. A few birds flew from their nests down in the trees, and Tim watched them fly away to where they would feel safe. Tim turned to glare at his brother, only to find Rhys straining to lift one of the bags instead. 

“Obviously, we have to carry it ourselves, Jack. Haven't you ever been camping before?” Jack’s boyfriend had been apologetic when he had discovered Jack had invited them along without Tim’s explicit permission, but Tim found himself waving the apologies off. Jack would do what Jack wanted to do. Regardless of if Tim wanted him to or not. Tim sighed, helping Rhys repack the bags to something he’d be able to manage. “Jack’s only gone glamping since he’s made it big. Hates the wilderness.”

“Please, just because I take the camper and normal friggin food doesnt mean its _glamping_.”Jack scoffed and made a face. “Just… Camping with style.”

Tim gave his brother a look, that Jack dutifully ignored as he added all of Rhys’s leftover supplies to his own pack. “Camping with style is literally glamping.” Tim drawled as he reached for some extra tent spikes. “And stop that, _let me take some_. You're going to throw out your back again.”

 

It took them the better part of the day to walk the trails and find the perfect spot to camp out. Jack had managed not to hurt himself, but had not managed to keep himself from complaining the entire trip about how heavy his pack was. Despite this, Tim only barely managed to stop Jack from showboating by trying to pick Rhys up before they crossed a narrow bridge. 

They were just a short walk from a small river, with a fallen log bridge, though Tim warned Rhys that it was certainly not safe- he didn't bother trying to warn Jack anymore- he was sure it wasn't going to budge on its own anytime soon. They set up camp, Jack laughing uproariously when Tim said the words ‘pitch a tent’, and slapping Rhys’s butt obnoxiously anytime Rhys bent over to do anything. Rhys would just smile and laugh, and Tim supposed they really were a good match. 

They managed to start a fire just as the sun started to fall, taking a break to tell campfire stories while they made and ate dinner, and enjoy the sounds of the forest, the fire crackling and popping into the night. Eventually, Tim had Jack put the fire out so they could go to bed. Rhys and Jack took one tent, and Tim took the other. He got comfortable in his sleeping bag, and shutting his eyes ready to sleep. Then he heard Jack speaking in a low voice that he couldn't quite make out. A feeling of dread washed over him. Surely, Rhys was the more reasonable of the two, and wouldn't let Jack have his way. Just this once. Rhys hurriedly shushed Jack, but then Rhys squeaked, and shushed Jack some more, this time while giggling. Tim threw an arm over his eyes, hoping they would just go to sleep, but the second he heard his brother huff and Rhys moan loudly, he was grabbing his flashlight and heading out of the camp.

It was dark, and Tim wasn't sure if he would be able to find his way back, but he was not going to sit and listen to his brother and his brother’s boyfriend having sex less than a few feet away. He aimed the flashlight at the ground, making sure he wouldn't trip, heading towards the stream. He’d sit there for a while before heading back, he was pretty confident that he’d be able to make his way back from there. Surely, Jack and Rhys couldn't go all night. 

It was quiet, the kind of quiet Tim liked out in the forest. He felt at ease, listening as the crickets sang their little songs, and frogs croaked in the distance. He shut his eyes as he heard the river rushing close by, readying himself to take a deep breath. 

Then he slipped on a muddy bank, falling into the river. He tried to rebalance himself in the shallow stream, but he slipped on a rock and heard something pop as the current pulled him under. He was able to get a few gasps of air as he tried to orient himself despite the pain. Fear coursed through his veins as he tried to grab anything to keep him from being washed any further downstream, but everything he touched dislodged itself, or was to slimy to keep a hold of, until a large mossy boulder finally allowed him to grab on. He climbed out of the water, coughing up water, and blinking the stars from his eyes, trying to catch his breath. There was no way he would make it back to camp, and he knew no one would hear him if he tried to call for help. 

He let out a shuddering breath, and laid his head down on the rock. Then the rock moved. It started to lift up, and Tim screamed, falling ungracefully onto the riverbank, scrambling back as a massive bear turned to look at him. In the moonlight he could see the bear was missing part of it’s left forepaw, and large scars on the right side of his face, where he was also missing an eye. The bear grunted curiously as it moved closer to Tim. 

Tim’s heart pounded against his chest as the bear simply stared at him. It leaned in close, huffing into Tim’s face. Tim was shaking, unable to speak or move when the bear backed off. It leaned down close to him, and waited. Tim started, unable to comprehend what was happening. Slowly, and carefully as he could, he reached out and touched the bear’s fur. The bear didn’t move. Mustering all his strength, he pulled himself onto the bears back. He didn't know what he was doing, but once he was sat on the bear’s back, riding it like a horse, the bear stood up, walking slowly into the forest. Tim dumbly stared down at the creature, wondering if he was dreaming. He had to have hit his head in the river. 

The bear walked them through the darkness, until it came across a cave. It was small, the space would be cozy, and the floor was covered in dead grass and leaves, making a small pile that Tim guessed and animal would find comfortable. The bear crouched down, letting Tim carefully slip off it’s back. He braced himself against the cave wall, keeping his weight off his foot. He looked down at his ankle to find it swollen, but not out of place. He sighed, it was probably just a sprain. That was much easier to handle than a broken ankle. 

Suddenly the bear was nudging him with its nose, pushing him towards the small pile of brush. Tim obliged, tired from his more than exciting night. A pile of brush in a bear’s cave was certainly better than alone on a river bed. And it wasn't like his ankle was going to give him the speed to run back to camp.

Tim stripped off his soaked jeans and underwear carefully, leaving his sweater on, thanking the heavens he chose a wool one for the camping trip. It would protect from the cold even if it was wet. The bear simply watched him from the cave entrance. Tim curled up on the ground, sighing at the cold, only for the bear to curl around him like a large furry heated blanket. he turned over and buried himself into the fur as much as he could, and, with surprising ease, fell asleep. 

 

The morning sun woke Tim up, shining bright over the treetops and managing to slip between the branches to hit his eyes. He groaned, and sat up, wincing harshly as his ankle throbbed. It was completely swollen, and red. There was no way for Tim to get back to camp on his own, and he had no idea if his new bear friend would let him leave. 

Something touched his hip, pushing up under the sweater to touch his hip. Tim screamed, pulling away from the touch, turning to face a large man who had apparently replaced the bear. The man had greying hair and a bushy beard. He was very muscular, but soft, like the type of man who was strong from work, and not a work out routine. He was missing part of his left hand, and large scars on the right side of his face, where he was also missing an eye Tim almost fainted. He was exactly like the bear that had brought him to the cave, but more human. Tim’s eyes trailed down the hairy chest, taking in the new form, before snapping right back to the man’s face as he started to move past the man’s belly button. 

“You’re… human?”

The man laughed, the gruff sound sending a shiver up Tim’s spine. “Almost. How’s your ankle?”

Tim glanced down at the painful joint, and wrinkled his nose. “It hurts, but once its splinted I should be able to walk. Probably gonna have to head back to the city instead of staying here for a week.” He sighed. 

“Leaving so soon? Your ankles already busted, why not stay?” 

“It’s not that easy to move around. What am I supposed to do, let you take care of me?” Tim snorted, but the man moved closer, crowding into Tim’s space. 

“That’s what I was thinkin’." The man stared into Tim’s eyes and leaned forward, just a small bit, asking a question without words. Tim shivered as a hand was rested on his thigh, stroking the skin there gently. His eyes trailed down the broad chest once more. Then Tim closed his eyes, and without thinking leaned forward to kiss to the man’s lips. It sent a small thrill through him as he was kissed back, a firm hand pressing him back into the grass. It trailed down his front, and the man pressed kisses along Tim’s cheekbone, and licked along the shell of Tim’s ear. 

Tim moaned softly, reaching up to run his finger through the greying locks, and wrap his arms around the man’s neck. Lips trailed along his collarbone, as the man moved Tim’s legs to the side to place himself between them. He pulled away from Tim to spit in his hand, much to Tim’s disgust. 

“What are you- oh!" Their cocks were pressed together, the man stroking them both slowly,  his spit easing the friction on the sensitive skin. Tim hissed softly, hips bucking slightly into the feeling. He looked down to find that his dick looked much smaller in comparison. He whined, suddenly more needy than he'd ever felt.

“More fun this way, isn't it?" The man pressed his face against Tim’s neck, softly humping into his own hand against Tim. “So much better than being alone.”

“Ye-ahhh…” Tim moaned, feeling the soft build in his gut. He’d never needed anything more, a sudden rush of heat flowing through him as he frantically tried to chase the feeling. Tim’s back arched up off the stone floor as he came, stars sparkling in his vision, but the man kept stroking them together, Tim’s cum allowing him to squeeze just a bit tighter, and move just a bit faster, driving Tim crazy.  

Tim wasn't sure how much he could take, writing under the man’s  bulk, hugging him closer, his legs shaking from the sensitivity. The man grunted, coming across Tim’s stomach and chest, stroking gently a few more times, riding out his own high. Tim finally came down, head rushing and mind blissfully blank, he let out a shuddering laugh as the man pulled away, and despite having just woken up, slipping back to sleep. 

 

There was a sharp slap against his cheek, and his eyes snapped open to see Jack, glaring at him. “You _asshole_! When the hell did you end up in the friggin river?” Jack yelled, before standing up and walking away, fingers at his temple and a string of curses pouring from his mouth. Tim sat up. He was at the edge of the riverbank, where he had first seen the bear. Tim blinked softly. Had the bear been a dream? 

Rhys was a short distance away, holding a med kit, and looking more worried than Tim had ever seen. “Your ankle looks pretty busted. We should probably bandage that before it gets worse.”  Tim nodded, still in a daze. He let Rhys expertly splint his ankle, his eyes trailing off to the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he thought was nothing more than a dream. Once Rhys had finished, and Jack was done cussing at nothing, they headed back to the camp, and packed up. The trek back to the car was slower, since Jack had to help Tim up the winding path. 

Jack started the car, and Tim stared out the window. Praying for some sign that he hadn’t had some weird pain induced dream of a bear that became a man. But he watched as the green trees became fields of farms, then suburban buildings, then towering skyscrapers. They stopped by a hospital, where Tim was checked over, and given instructions to stay off his foot until it had a chance to heal. Then Jack took Tim home, and ensured Tim that he'd call over someone to make sure Tim stayed off his foot. And in a daze, Tim let Jack dump him on the couch. Tim turned the tv onto a cute show about cats, and Jack left, reminding Tim that someone would come by to take care of him. 

It was just an hour later that the doorbell rang. Tim tried to stand up, his ankle painfully reminding him of his doctor's orders. He sighed. “Come in! The door should be open!” Tim laid back down, listening to the person Jack must have hired come in, shutting the door and locking it behind them. They walked towards Tim, but stopped halfway there. 

Tim peered over the couch’s armrest to see a very familiar figure there. A large man stood, smirking at Tim in good humor. He had a prothstetic on his left arm, and large scars on the right side of his face, where he was also missing an eye. Tim couldn't help but smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey. M’name’s Wil.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ha, this was just an excuse for some cute smut. And I wanted to play with Timhelm a bit


End file.
